


my soul to keep

by thekardemomme



Series: Spierfeld Week [2]
Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Awkward Flirting, Coming Out, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romantic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 23:59:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14272383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekardemomme/pseuds/thekardemomme
Summary: In a world where you learn your soulmate’s name on your 18th birthday, Simon Spier is just as oblivious as he’s always been.





	my soul to keep

**Author's Note:**

> day two of spierfeld week: soulmate au

Simon’s never been big on birthdays. He likes his birthday well enough, and he likes the cake that comes with it. But he’s never thrown huge birthday parties. Usually, his birthday consists of going to school and smiling at everyone who knows what day it is, and then going home and gorging in birthday cake with Leah and Nick. And, for the second time, with Abby. 

But this year he’s turning 18, and it’s kind of a big deal. 

The night of November 16th, him and his friends gather in Nick’s basement, anxiously waiting for the clock to turn to midnight. Simon can’t help but wonder how it’s going to happen. Is he going to hear the name whispered in his head? That seems unlikely, considering Simon’s thoughts are way too loud to hear a mysterious voice. Will a name just suddenly come to the forefront of his mind? That doesn’t seem too likely either. Or maybe it does. He doesn’t fucking know. He’s the first of his friends to turn 18, which means he’s the guinea pig. 

Abby, Nick, Leah, Bram, and Garrett are being kind of ridiculous about the whole thing. They’re wearing party hats and playing stupid party games and there’s a cake in the corner with  _ Happy Dick Day! _ written on it because—according to Nick—the 17th is the day he finds out what man out there was made for him. 

Part of Simon is scared that he doesn’t even have a soulmate. He’s heard horror stories about that. About 18th birthdays that came and went without any revelations or lightbulb moments. He tries not to think about that. Instead he thinks about his parents, who were already dating when their 18th birthdays revealed them as soulmates. It was all very cinematic. You could take that story and bottle it up and slap on a can’t-believe-it’s-not-Nicholas-Sparks label on it. 

Simon kind of doesn’t want this to be a big deal. Or maybe he does. He’s not really sure. He wants that cinematic love story, but he also wants to just find someone. Find  _ the _ one. Maybe there doesn’t have to be fanfare and dick-shaped confetti involved in that. 

Anyway, it’s not up to him. Whatever happens happens, if the fate of the universe deems it so. He doesn’t have much control over it. 

The clock inches closer to 12am, settling on 11:58pm and lowering a tense silence over the room. Simon’s friends sit on the couch while Simon himself sits in an armchair, trying not to look at them. He knows all of them are looking at him. 

“Are you scared?” Leah asks, and Simon shrugs slightly. “I don’t think there’s anything to be scared of. People turn 18 everyday. No one’s ever been hurt from it.”

“Not physically,” Garrett cuts in, to which Leah elbows him in the stomach. “Ow, fuck. Shit. I mean, Simon, you don’t have anything to worry about. It’s not like you’re dating someone, you know? People who are dating people other than their soulmates are the ones who are at risk to get their hearts broken.” 

Abby and Nick share a glance, and Leah elbows Garrett again. Simon’s eyes settle on Bram, who doesn’t seem to find the same humor in the dumb shit Garrett’s saying as everyone else does. Simon wishes he could read Bram’s mind. He has this theory that Bram is actually really funny inside of his own mind. He wonders if maybe Bram is hiding something else in there, too. 

11:59pm. Simon’s stomach twists with nerves. 

Nick leans forward. “There’s scarier things about turning 18, you know. Think of college acceptance letters and moving out and trying to do actual adult things. This is just a drop in the ocean,” he tries to soothe. It doesn’t really calm Simon much, but he appreciates the effort. 

Because this isn’t just a drop in the ocean. This is the name of the man that Simon is destined to spend the rest of his life with. The person that was carved out of the same patch of universe that he was, the person with matching stardust in their bones. This is what he would usually refer to as a big freaking deal, and he can’t help but to treat it as such. He gulps, closes his eyes, and he waits. 

Simon can tell when the clock hits 12, because Abby audibly gasps. The room is tense and the air is stale with anticipation. They wait, and they wait, and they wait. Simon hears nothing. He thinks nothing. He sees nothing. His mind is the same as it was before it officially became his birthday—full of anxiety and empty of anything else. 

“Did you hear anything?” Abby asks, after what feels like an eternity but is probably only 30 seconds or so. 

Simon cracks his eyes open, takes in the expectant look of his friends. “No,” he murmurs. All of their faces fall. “Not yet,” he adds. Because there’s still hope. After all, his sister Alice didn’t get her soulmate’s name until midway through lunch on her 18th. There’s still time. 

“Well, in that case.” Bram stands up, crossing the room and putting a party hat on Simon’s head. Simon looks up at him, feels the blush rising on his cheeks. “Happy 18th birthday, Simon.”

The group starts to sing Happy Birthday, all bright smiles and giggles like there’s nothing wrong. Like they’re not all holding their breath, waiting for Simon to gasp and say he’s heard it, that he knows who it is. 

They finish the birthday cake soon after, and then pass out in their array of sleeping bags on the basement floor. Nick’s mom wakes them up at 7am so they can all get ready for school. It’s a bit crammed with 4 boys in Nick’s bathroom and 2 girls in the guest one, but they manage. They all cram into Simon’s car (even though technically it only sits 5 and there’s 6 of them) and make their way to school. Simon tries to pretend he’s not still waiting. Slowly losing hope. 

The first half of the school day inches by. Simon can’t focus on anything else out of fear of accidentally missing out on his soulmate’s name. He’s pretty sure he bombs an English quiz, but he doesn’t care. Mostly. The name of his soulmate is more important than Hamlet, anyway. 

When lunch rolls around, he’s slowly losing his patience. He drops into his seat next to Leah and eats his fries angrily, before just offering the rest to Bram. He doesn’t really have an appetite, and Bram usually asks for some anyways. 

“You okay?” Nick asks. 

Simon shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean. I know that there’s still a lot of daytime left, but I can’t help but be fucking terrified that I don’t actually have a soulmate. My mom and dad said they knew their names almost immediately after midnight. Is this sort of thing genetic?” 

“I don’t think so,” Leah says, soothingly. Simon pouts, poking sullenly at his burger. “Hey. There’s someone out there for you, Simon. Even if it’s not a soulmate. There’s someone out there for you, that will fall in love with you. And you’ll forget all about this. In fact, you’ll be thankful you never got a name. And that’s only  _ if _ you don’t get your name by the end of the night.”

“Yeah, I know. I just—” Simon freezes mid sentence, as every thought is erased from his mind. He can only think of one word. 

_ Abraham. Abraham Abraham Abraham Abraham Abraham Abraham.  _

His soulmate’s name is Abraham. 

He doesn’t even know anyone named Abraham. 

“Hello? Earth to Simon?” He hears then, and he jerks back to reality to see Bram waving a hand in front of his face. 

Simon struggles to speak for a moment due to the overwhelming shock and excitement. All of his friends look concerned, until they start putting the pieces together. 

“Oh my god,” Abby squeals. “Who is it?!”

“Abraham,” he says, his mouth dry. “The name is Abraham. Who the hell is Abraham?”

Nick, Leah, and Abby look at each other, clearly just as confused. Simon scans every face in the cafeteria, hoping to land on someone and have the memory of their name come rushing back. Instead, he circles back around, his eyes falling on Garrett. Garrett, who’s patting Bram’s back. Bram, who’s choking. 

“Are you okay there,  _ Bram _ ?” Garrett asks, his tone teasing. Bram is still coughing (there’s tears streaked down his face from it) and yet he manages to send the most fierce death glare that Simon’s ever seen. 

Abby whirls around, facing Garrett. “Is there something you want to share with the class, Laughlin?” She challenges. 

Garrett shakes his head. “No. I’m just making sure my friend here is okay. He seems to have choked on one of those fries that Spier gave him. It’s funny, really, I’m sure there’s something else of Spier’s that Bram would rather be—” Garrett coughs as Bram elbows him in the ribs,  _ hard. _

Simon turns back to Nick and Leah, who are searching the name Abraham on instagram and trying to pin one down. Simon can’t help but laugh at their dedication. 

“I guess we’ll have to wait for this mysterious Abraham to hear the name Simon on his 18th. Or, if it’s already passed, we’ll have to wait for me to meet him.”

“Here’s to hoping it’s soon,” Leah smiles, making a show of crossing her fingers.

Abby nods, taking a gulp of her apple juice. “Who knows, maybe there’ll be a new kid named Abraham in the next few months. Or maybe he’ll be your college roommate! Wouldn’t that be so cool?” She turns to Nick, then, rambling on about how she can’t wait to hear his name on her birthday. 

Simon just sighs, poking at his food again. Abraham. Surely he’d remember if he’s met someone with that name. This just means he’ll have to wait even longer. Oh, well. At least it’ll be more than worth the wait.

*

For the next month and a half, Simon is on the look out for people named Abraham. He meets an Abe, who’s pretty cute and is probably gay, but he finds out later that Abe’s full name is just that. Abe. Not Abraham. He crosses Abe out of his list of possibilities, leaving him at zero. 

On Bram’s 18th birthday, January 18th, Simon’s possibility list is still empty. But he can’t even bring himself to be sad about it, because he’s so excited for Bram to hear the name of his soulmate. 

They’re at Garrett’s house, this time. They’d played Cards Against Humanity and Apples to Apples while sipping on the pink Moscato Garrett had stolen from his mom’s wine cabinet, watching the clock with eagle eyes. When the minute hand slipped to the last tick mark before 12am, they all put their cards down, staring at Bram. 

Bram was pale, looked ready to puke. Simon felt bad for him. He stepped over and sat next to him, draping an arm over his shoulders. “It’s not so bad,” he whispers. “It doesn’t hurt. Your mind just goes really, really quiet. And then that name is the only thing you can think of. It’s like… It’s like when you look at someone really hot, and they’re all you can focus on. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Bram whispers back. “I think I do.”

“It’ll be okay. It’s really exciting. It’s the most thrilling feeling in the world, like when your stomach drops on the Tower of Terror at Disney.”

“Have I ever told you I get easily nauseated?” Bram asks, and Simon shakes his head. “Well, I do. So I’ve never ridden the Tower of Terror. Although if it’s as thrilling as you’ve let on, I might have to try it.”

Simon smiles. “We’ll have to go sometime. Maybe we can go on our senior trip.” He tightens his grip on Bram’s shoulders, making it more of a side hug than a friendly gesture. “I’ll hold your hand the whole time, promise,” he teases. Bram rolls his eyes and shoves Simon’s arm away. They both collapse into laughter. And then the clock hits twelve, and they go silent. 

At 12:01, Bram’s eyes close and then fly back open. His face goes ashen, his eyes as wide as saucers. For a moment, Simon thinks they’re actually on the Tower of Terror, and Bram’s going to be sick all over the carpet. 

“Bram?” He asks, putting a hand on his arm and trying to catch his eyes. “Bram, are you okay?”

Bram swallows hard, turning to face Simon. He nods slowly. “Yeah,” he croaks out. “I’m fine. I know the name, now.”

“Who is it?!” Abby squeals, literally sitting on the edge of her seat. But Bram looks panicked, and Simon can’t help but feel protective. 

He jumps in even before Garrett does, which he thinks comes as a surprise to everyone there. Bram and Garrett are best friends. Not to say that Simon and Bram aren’t friends, because they are, but they’re not extremely close. So it’s a bit surprising, even to himself, when he tugs Bram to his feet and says,

“I’m going to take him to get some fresh air, okay?”

But Bram doesn’t fight it. He just follows Simon outside into the cold night. It’s so cold they can see their breath, but Bram sucks in the air like a lifeline. Slowly but surely, the color seeps back into his face and he doesn’t look like he’s about to be sick anymore. 

“I’m sorry about that,” Bram says, leaning against the brick of Garrett’s house. “I didn’t expect to react like that.”

Simon shakes his head. “It’s okay. I think everyone expects it to be this exciting thing, you know? It’s so built up, especially by people like my parents, who knew before they  _ knew. _ I mean… Look, I don’t think Garrett was wrong when he said people can get their heart broken from this thing. But it’s not only people who find out that their soulmate isn’t their partner that can get hurt. I think it can hurt just as much if your soulmate isn’t—isn’t who you wanted it to be.” He turns to look at Bram, Cute Bram, with soft eyes and an amazing sense of humor and who always asks for his fries. “Are you disappointed?” He asks gently. 

“No,” Bram admits. “I think that’s what scares me the most about it.”

“Why?”

Bram licks his lips, and stares at his shoes. Simon knows what he’s going to say even before he says it. He knows the look. “I’m gay,” he says, and Simon nods. He didn’t know, not really—but he did. Part of him knew. “I’m gay, and… And my soulmate is a boy.”

“Okay. That’s okay,” Simon soothes. “It doesn’t have to mean anything yet. You don’t have to tell anyone until you’re ready. This can just be something that’s yours, and you can keep it to yourself. Hold onto it for a little while. No one will be mad.”

“My soulmate isn’t just a boy, Simon,” Bram mumbles. “My soulmate… Is a boy I know. A boy we both know. I’ve liked him for a while. And… And he’s so fucking oblivious that he doesn’t even know my name.”

Simon knows the feeling. He’s the type of guy that falls in love with any boy who shows him even the slightest bit of attention, is the thing. Many of those boys don’t know his name. Except for Lyle, the hot Waffle House waiter, but that didn’t go anywhere. It turned out he was a lot more into Abby than Simon. Simon’s happy about that, though. After all, his soulmate’s name isn’t Lyle. 

The cold is too biting, so they walk back inside to the kitchen. Simon uses his knowledge of Garrett’s house—which is admittedly limited—to get Bram a tall glass of water. Bram downs it in seconds flat. 

“You should just introduce yourself to him,” Simon says, finally. “If he doesn’t know your name yet, make him know it. You’re soulmates, after all.”

Bram puts the glass down a bit too hard on the granite, but it doesn’t break. Thankfully. Simon’s knowledge of the house is limited enough that he doesn’t know where a broom is. 

Bram sighs. “I don’t know how.”

“Here,” Simon offers. “Just pretend I’m him. Introduce yourself to me.”

“Are you serious?” Bram asks. “I didn’t know you were into roleplay. That’s pretty kinky, you know.”

“It is. There’s lots of things you don’t know about me. Just try not to think about it when you’re jerking off tonight.” It’s lewd and kind of out of nowhere, and Simon means to apologize, but it pulls such a surprised, happy laugh from Bram that Simon swallows his apology down. Happy is a good look on Bram. 

Everything is a good look on Bram, though. 

“Now, come on. Pretend I’m him. Here, I’ll pretend I’m at a party. You see him across the room, and you can’t  _ not _ talk to him. You take it from here.”

Simon picks up Bram’s empty water glass and leans against the cabinets, pretending to be hot and broody, like a hot guy at a party. Bram’s still laughing, which makes Simon laugh. 

“Bram!” He whines through his laughter. “Take this seriously! Get your shit together and hit on me. Take two.” He leans against the wall again, and tries to imagine and emulate Flynn Rider’s smolder. He hears Bram snicker again, but manages to keep his cool. 

Bram taps his shoulder, and Simon turns, pretending to be surprised to see him. Bram’s still biting back a laugh. “Hi,” he grits out, “I saw you across the room and I couldn’t help but come over to talk to you. I’m…” He hesitates, the same fearful look from earlier crossing his face. And Simon simply won’t have that. 

So, he smiles. “Nice to meet you, I’m your soulmate. Can you tell me your name?” He prompts, hoping that it will make it easier for Bram to spit it out. 

“I’m…” Bram tries again. He’s clearly going increasingly frustrated with himself, so Simon rests a comforting hand on Bram’s elbow. Bram glances at it for a long moment, steels himself, and then meets Simon’s eyes with a new fervor. Simon can’t help but think he’s kind of in love with Bram. 

_ Whoa. Where the hell did that come from? _

But he doesn’t get the chance to wonder long, because his hand is still on Bram’s elbow, and Bram is starting to speak. “You are my soulmate,” he says, so convincingly that Simon believes it. “It’s nice to meet you,  _ Simon. _ My name is Abraham.”

Simon’s heart honest to god stops, right there in his chest. He thinks that time stops, too, but that proves to be wrong when Bram jumps away from him. Simon wonders what went wrong, but then he realizes his hand is empty, and there’s broken glass scattered on the tile floor between them. 

“Shit,” he mumbles, looking at his empty hand. Then he looks at Bram. “ _ Shit.  _ You’re Abraham?”

“That’s me,” Bram nods. “Abraham Louis Greenfeld.”

“So you’ve… You’ve known? Since my birthday, you’ve known?”

Bram looks down at the shattered glass. “Kind of? I didn’t know for sure it was me, but I knew it was probable. Likely, even. But I wasn’t 100%, so I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure. And when I heard your name in my mind just now, I panicked. Because it’s like you said, outside… Sometimes your soulmate isn’t the person you want it to be.”

“Did you…” Simon swallows, and he suddenly wishes the glass wasn’t broken, so he could fill it with water. “Did you not want it to be me? I totally understand if you didn’t, I know it’s kind of weird, I just—”

“Of course I wanted it to be you, Simon. I’ve had a crush on you since 9th grade. I thought I was so obvious.” He hesitates. “I was just scared that you didn’t want it to be me.” Another hesitation. “Are you disappointed that it’s me?”

Simon pauses, but not because he has to think about it. Because he doesn’t. He’s never been so happy in his life. But this situation feels fragile, like one wrong misstep will fuck it all up. Bram chooses his words so carefully, and maybe it’s time for Simon to make an attempt to do the same. 

What he wants to say is that he’s pretty sure he’s fucking in love, but he’s a little worried that the whole soulmate thing is fucking with his emotions. So he doesn’t say it. And that’s okay, he thinks. He and Bram are soulmates. They have forever together, which is more than enough time for Simon to tell him he loves him. That day will come. 

But today, Simon has other things he needs to say. So he just smiles, and takes Bram’s hands in his own. “No,” he says, because that’s all that’s necessary. That one word alone contains multitudes; all the words he wants to say and all the ones he needs to say. “Now. Do you know where the fuck Garrett keeps his broom?”

“Uh, in the pantry, I think.” Bram’s voice is light, like he’s dreaming. It makes Simon happy. 

He presses a kiss to Bram’s knuckles. “Cool. I’m going to clean this up, and then you and I are going to head downstairs and go to sleep. And in the morning, we’re going to Waffle House. Just you and I. What do you think?”

“I think..,” Bram begins, but then he stops. A slow smile spreads across his face. “I can’t think of anything other than your name. It’s all my brain will focus on.”

Simon’s stomach drops like he’s on the Tower of Terror, even though he isn’t. He smiles back at Bram, kisses his knuckles again. “It’s a date, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @femmevilde


End file.
